Synergy
by Insomnikat
Summary: Alone they are weak, but together they are powerful. Can you crack their story? (Lionel & Lillian, Lex & Lana)
1. Synergy I: Mirror Ball

** SYNERGY  
Part One: Mirror Ball**  
by Insomnikat 

E-mail : katzouchka@rogers.com   
Rating: PG   
Spoilers: post-Exodus, pre-Third Season.  
Summary: Alone they are weak, but together they are powerful. Can you crack their story? (Lionel/Lillian, Lex/Lana)  
Disclaimer: Until the day I own DC comics and the WB, I am but a poor fanatic drunk on too much time. 

**BEFORE YOU READ: **First of all, the title is roughly defined as the working together of two objects (in this case, people) whose combined effect is greater than the sum of their individual effects. 95% of _Synergy_ is comprised of scenes between two people. Though the story focuses primarily on the 'synergy' of Lionel/Lillian and Lex/Lana, it also explores the relationship of other pairings on the show (not necessarily the romantic ones, either). Other things you should know:  
1. This is a semi - **MYSTERY FIC**. Questions are raised, plots unravel, and clues and hints are scattered throughout the story, which means it is recommended you...  
2. **READ CAREFULLY**. And when you reach the end of the fic,   
3. **READ AGAIN**, because it's a lot like a movie that, upon watching again, you gain better understanding and appreciation of how the pieces fit together, catching tidbits that make you go 'hello!' that you previously didn't notice before.  
4. Unfortunately, there is no getting around the requirement of some **HEAD SCRATCHING** and **PONDERING**. It is part mystery, after all. But above all...   
5. **ENJOY!** The author would like to emphasize the importance of heeding #2 and #3 by saying, "I may have written this, but it did not exempt me from 'ooh's and 'ahh's and 'I knew that!' when reading it in it's entirety."   


* * * * * * * * 

  
_Welcome home._

That was what greeted him on the large banner hanging over the Talon as he drove up to it. For the hundredth time on the drive over, he considered turning back. Personally, he would've preferred hiding another day away in the mansion nursing his still-peeling sunburns. But she had insisted, and he had never turned down an invitation from her nor was about to start now. 

He parked his Porsche in his regular spot in front of the shop. Lex didn't bother to give the banner a second glance as he strolled into the Talon and found itwell, 'dead' seemed rather profane after his recent ordeal. People were slumped all around the shop, dully watching the faded lights reflected from a mirror ball overhead sweep lazily across a small area of floor space cleared obviously for dancing. His entrance caused a few curious glances and some stirring from the crowd near the door, but little else. He spotted a familiar head of long dark hair among the cluster in the back near the DJ that was not yet aware of his arrival. Lex walked over.

"Lively party," he greeted as she whirled around to face him.

Lana looked down, embarrassed, and blushed accordingly. "Yeah, I guessif you were at a retirement home." She rolled her eyes and sighed, "but at least there they'd be playing bingo or doing _some_ dancing." 

She pursed her lips and gave her companion an approving once over. "You look better, Lex." Her eyes rose slowly to meet his and, with a husky near-whisper meant for his ears only, answered the unspoken question in his eyes.  
"I'm glad you're here." 

Lex nodded and gave her a slight smile. "Then so am I." Together, they stared around the bored room as a comfortable silence settled between them. It was four, maybe five minutes of tranquility before his overwhelming curiosity broke through. "So where's Clark?" he asked turning his head sideways to her. Lex stared hard at Lana to make sure she picked up on the real question being implied: Where was Clarkrelationship-wise?

Lana stiffened. She heard the real question loud and clear. And obviously, it was still an unpleasantly touchy subject. "You know him," she said, her tone cynical and accusing. "He never means it, but Clark always seems to keep us waiting." 

Lex studied the displeasure on her face for a moment before looking away to the empty dance floor. "You know, now that he's back safe and sound, it's perfectly natural to want to throttle him with a piece of your mind." Wide, startled eyes darted at him as he continued, "Clark left you and broke your heart. There's no point trying to hide it when everyone can see it, Lana. Things can never go back to the way they were and you have every right to feel angry about it." A wicked grin crept across Lex's sunburned features then. "Besides, I have full confidence in your ability to at least dent the impenetrable Clark Kent should it come to a literal ass-kicking. After all, I trained you."

Lana was visibly stunned. It took her a second to recover and when she did, she shook her head and smiled. A pure, honest-to-goodness Lana Lang token smile. "The ever-wise Lex Luthor. Always bringing out the best in people." He raised a brow curiously at her, unsure if what he had just heard was sarcasm, and she allowed herself a good laugh. "I missed that about you."

He pouted mockingly. "Surely that's not all you missed."

"And who do you think this party is for?" she asked, feigning aghast.

"Clark, of course," he answered briskly, shoving his hands customarily into his pockets as he took another sweeping gaze at the bored crowd.

"It's every bit your party as it is his," said Lana, who was rather disappointed by his quick answer.

"So I gathered from the enthusiastic reception." He shrugged, but did not turn to see the inevitable embarrassment return to her face. He didn't like that look on her very much. "Don't worry about it, Lana. I was never a popular guy around town."

A group of guys near them were reaching for their jackets and getting up to leave. Their actions upset Lana and put a rather unpleasant frown on her face. Lex decided he preferred the embarrassed look better. He elbowed her lightly to get her attention. "Lana, I can't do anything about the bingo - frankly, I don't want to - but maybe I could do something about that other thing."

He winked at her and walked over to exchange a few words with the DJ. A minute later, the lights went out so that the mirror ball alone illuminated the shop. Lex crossed over the now-starry dance floor, murmurs and hushed whispers following in his wake as he made his way back to Lana and held a hand out to her. He raised his brow expectantly. "Shall we?"

*****

**Thirty minutes later.**

Clark burst into the Talon. "Sorry, I'm late! I ran into some"

He blinked once. Twice, so that his eyes could adjust to the dim lighting. The atmosphere in the Talon was humming with casual conversation and a melodic, jazzy tune. A handful of couples spotted the makeshift dance floor beneath the illuminated mirror ball. Clark took a seat at a table near the counter while his eyes locked and narrowed on the couple directly beneath the mirror ball.

"You have to admit, they look pretty good," said Chloe as she appeared by his side with a cup of punch in either hand. She offered one to Clark and smiled, raising her own cup in greeting. "Nice to see you decided to attend your own party."

"Now you know that's not true, Chloe," smiled Clark, accepting the cup and turning his gaze back to the couple on the dance floor. "This party is for Lex, too."

Chloe followed his gaze to the dance floor and a sly grin crept across her face. "Yes, well, at least one of you is making the best of what the welcoming committee's put out." She glanced sideways at him for some kind of reaction, but Clark merely continued to watch the couple dance as he brought the cup to his lips for a drink. However, something caught his eye in the next moment that caused his hand to involuntarily twitch and almost spill the cup. Lex had just casually tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lana's ear, leaned in and whispered something. They shared knowing smiles. 

"Lana and Lex dance well." Clark commented with genuine surprise.

Chloe rolled her eyes and stalked off. "When you get those blinders off, Clark, let me know," she called over her shoulder. Clark frowned at her departing back and took another sip of his punch before getting up and making his way towards his two friends.

"Clark," Lana smiled uneasily to the approaching figure. Lex, who had his back to him, craned his neck and also smiled. But unlike Lana, his came easily and stress free. His hands dropped from Lana's side and they both turned to greet Clark.

He took an appreciative sweep of the decorated shop before resting his gaze on Lana. "This is some party."

"Thanks," she replied edgily, shifting a little behind her dance partner. "But if it weren't for Lex's quick thinking, it would've been a real bust."

The two men nodded to each other in greeting just as a new song began to play. Someone entering the shop immediately caught Lex's eye and caused his lips to purse into a thin line. His two companions did not notice. Clark was too busy trying to catch Lana's eye, who in turn was too busy sliding herself behind Lex to avoid meeting his gaze. Lex was made aware of the awkward situation when he felt a small hand press on his still painfully sensitive sunburned back. He winced, looked over his shoulder at her frightened figure and then at Clark. He understood now the request being conveyed through the tiny pressure being applied to the small of his back: shield me.

"May I cut in?" the younger man asked.

"I believe that's up to Lana," Lex grinned and stepped away so suddenly that Lana's eyes went wide in surprise. Her silent plea rejected, she had no choice but to look at Clark as he stretched his hand out to her hopefully. 

"May I, Lana? Please." 

She glanced nervously at Lex who nodded in encouragement. She bit her lower lip and, while still looking at Lex so as to delay meeting Clark's gaze as long as possible, hesitantly accepted the outstretched hand. You can't avoid him forever, she read in his eyes. Lex smirked in satisfaction and walked off the dance floor towards the figure now standing in a back corner.

"What do you want?" Lex demanded, his face transformed in the brief walk over to a mask of such cold hatred it would've frozen any other man on the spot.

The older man merely chuckled. "You know, I can't quite figure out why you go out of your way for theseteenagers. Luthors are not known for camaraderie and until moving here, you were hardly the exception. At first I thought it was because you lacked exposure to people in your appropriate age group." Lionel mused, tapping his lips thoughtfully with his index finger as a grin tugged the corner of his lips. "Hmm, but that's such a tawdry excuse for social ineptitude. Then I thought, perhaps you're merely trying to relive your adolescence."

"You can't miss what you never had," Lex spat, his chin lifted proud and defensively. "And my recovery is going well, Dad, thanks for asking."

Lionel pouted, sincerely hurt. "I thought my intentions here were obvious. Is it so terrible for a father to welcome his wayward son back amongst the living?"

"No. It's not," said Lex through gritted teeth and looked away. "But nothing will ever compare to your sending away." He felt exhausted all of a sudden and turned his eyes to the dance floor. Lex was not in the mood for this repartee with his father. The wounds were still too fresh.

Lionel took the moment's opportunity to study his son's rigid posture, taking note of the way he seemed to lean more dependently on his left foot, how the skin of his hand hanging loosely at his side had grown rough and calloused with more distinctly protruding veins, how the overexposure to sunlight still bestowed on his face a perpetually flushed look, and the premature creases for one so young that surrounded his extremely wary eyes. Lionel watched carefully as Lex's gaze wandered to the Smallville darling and the stress marks relented ever so slightly around the eyes. The months of exile from civilization had definitely hardened his son physically, but how much had it changed him psychologically? What price did he pay in order to survive?

Lex noticed the serious concentration directed his way from the corner of his eye and acknowledged it with a curt, "What?"

"Nothing," Lionel replied innocently and forced himself to look away. He pulled on his sleeve to check his watch. "Well, I must be off. Previous engagements to attend. I'm sure my presence will not be missed."

"Hardly," drawled Lex as he walked away - and Lionel observed - straight to the dark-haired youths he called 'friends.' It was decided even before Lionel stepped out onto the sidewalk that his file on the now equally intriguing Miss Lana Lang was in dire need of updating.

*****

**The Torch**.

Lionel walked into the local highschool newspaper and found Chloe standing before her notorious 'Wall of Weird.' She had not noticed his entrance and seemed deep in thought. Lionel came up behind her and was not surprised to see that the focus of her attention was a smiling photograph of Clark Kent. 

"I see the subject's return has already begun to make you question your work," he said so suddenly it made the young woman jump. She whirled around just in time to see his smile dissolve into a mask of impassivity. "Don't ever doubt yourself, Miss Sullivan. It's unbecoming on you."

Her eyes fell momentarily to the ground before rising sheepishly back up at him. "I apologize, Mr. Luthor. You're early and...well, caught me by surprise." She walked past him to get to her table and retrieve a red manila folder. Chloe handed it to him for inspection. He flipped it open and began to skim the contents within. "It's a compilation of what I think Clark has been doing over the summer based on what's been said around town and articles from the Daily Planet and Inquisitor confirming some of the local hearsay."

"Interesting," Lionel said with quiet intrigue. "You believe Metropolis' mysterious do-gooder was our very own Clark Kent."

"Yes," Chloe answered confidently. "It's practically embedded in him to play the hero. I called it his 'savior complex.' "

Lionel skimmed through the papers once more before closing the folder with an air of satisfaction. "Impressive as usual, Miss Sullivan."

"Thank you," Chloe smiled and sat down on the edge of her computer table. She watched Lionel approach her Wall of Weird. He looked it over appreciatively before reaching down at an old TIMES magazine cover. 

He raised an expectant brow to her, his hands poised and ready to remove the piece. "May I?"

"Sure," she replied, though she was positive the question was more a courtesy than a request. Chloe could not imagine such a trifle thing as propriety stopping the great Lionel Luthor from getting what he wanted. She got up and went over to take a closer look at what caught his eye.

"Is this--?" he asked her, holding up the old picture of a crying little girl. Beside her were the words 'Heartbreak in the Heartland.'

Chloe smiled bitterly and nodded in confirmation. "Lana Lang."

A thoughtful 'hmm' rumbled from his throat as he studied the photograph carefully. "I take it you haven't spoken much to your roommate this summer."

"No, not really," sighed Chloe as she walked back to the table. "Not for a long while, really, unless you consider icy glares and cold shoulders a form of speech." She propped herself again on the edge of the table and eyed the older man suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

Lionel followed Chloe and handed her the TIMES cover. "It has come to my attention that the file on Miss Lang requires a much-needed update with particular emphasis on her work at the Talon and relationship with my son."

Chloe frowned. "I don't quite see the relevance the Talon and her partnership with Lex has to Clark."

"Miss Sullivan, I'm disappointed," Lionel began to chastise. "I had such high esteem of your 'crack journalistic instincts.' Perhaps I misjudged." To emphasize the fact, he went on to explain, "Nothing has changed in the focus of your assignment. Part of the fascination that is Clark Kent is the dynamics of his rather _unique_ friendship with my son and his charming associate."

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but the thoughts that suddenly flooded her mind caused the frown to further deepen into her brow instead. The assignment had never really been about Clark. It was silly how she hadn't realized it before. Everything Lionel Luthor did was always traceable to Lex. Always. But rather than project ideas and theories forward, this revelation propelled her backwards to the meeting in the Luthor mansion several months ago when she first agreed to take on this assignment. Lionel's quote of her triggered the memory of the rest of the conversation.

_"Love has a way of blinding even the sharpest of minds," Lionel said. "We don't look because we don't want to see. But once love has been stripped away, then we see the real person clearly. They're revealed to us with all their flaws, their foibles...and their secrets."_

Her mind began to buzz from the faint whiff of a story emanating from the memory. Had he been speaking from past experience, alluding to a future fear, or a little of both? The latter intrigued her and her crack journalistic instincts snatched it up immediately. She did not notice the amused grin appear on Lionel's sharp features as he took her silence to be the effects of his planting the seeds of doubt once again in her mind. "Miss Sullivan?" he asked, his voice purposely snapping her back to reality. "Are your reporter senses tingling?"

Chloe blinked and a knowing smile slowly graced her face. "As a matter of fact, they are."

"Good," he said, turning to leave. "Then I will expect her updated file by the end of this week."

"Mr. Luthor!" She called after his already departing back, jumping to her feet and falling in step with his. "I know the last thing you want to hear is a Social Studies 101 lesson, but if you really want to know how your recently-back-from-the-dead son is doing, maybe you should just ask him."

Much to Chloe's astonishment, Lionel turned and pinched her chin as if she was a little child that had just said something cute. A deep, throaty chuckle escaped his lips. "Miss Sullivan, if it were that simple, you wouldn't be here now, would you?" And with that he walked away and disappeared around the hallway, leaving her with the disconcerting impression of having just been threatened.  


**Part Two: Baby, We Could Have Danced All Night (But Didn't**) 


	2. Synergy II: We Could Have Danced All Nig...

** SYNERGY  
Part Two: Baby, We Could Have Danced All Night (But Didn't**)  
by Insomnikat 

E-mail : katzouchka@rogers.com   
Rating: PG   
Spoilers: post-Exodus, pre-Third Season.  
Summary: Alone they are weak, but together they are powerful. Can you crack their story?   
Disclaimer: Until the day I own DC comics and the WB, I am but a poor fanatic drunk on too much time. 

* * * * * * * * 

People are afraid to merge.  
- 'Less Than Zero' by Bret Easton Ellis 

"We go forward," Chloe mumbled as she scrolled the long list of 'Luthor' search results at the Daily Planet website archive and fought the urge to yawn. It had been after midnight three cups of coffee ago and her eyes could barely keep open to read every single article title that scrolled by her. She just wanted to get to the end of the page so she could save the list and call it a night. After all, there was tomorrow to peruse the documented life of the Luthor family for the past twenty-three years. Chloe was nearing the bottom of the page when a four letter 'B' word in bold capitals shot out at her from the gossip columns circa 1980. "And we go back," she said as she sat up with renewed interest and clicked on the Luthor headline. Her eyes widened at the article that popped up and she proceeded to read eight months of similarly related articles, fueled straight into the early morning hours only by her reporter's drive to get to the bottom of one of the greatest mysteries of her lifetime: the tragedy of Lionel Luthor. 

***** 

**Metropolis, 1980.**

"Sorry I'm late," he said upon entering the room, his tie already loose around the collar as he strode over to his wife and brushed a kiss onto her cheek. "I had some things to take care of."

Sitting before a dark cherry wood vanity dressed in a lovely black evening gown, she stared at the reflection of him standing beside her in the mirror. His proud mane of hair was casually swept back and feral traces on his face betrayed a fresh business kill of some sort. "Things?" she asked suspiciously. 

He returned her gaze in the mirror and his face became as blank a mask as her own. "Things," he replied flatly. She knew there was no budging when it came to these 'things,' but she glared at him anyway. 

"Fine," she drawled, looking away. "Are we still on for dinner?" 

"Yes," he replied simply and disappeared into the walk-in closet at the far end of the room. Filled with desire not to be in the same room as the presently intolerable man, she finished with her hair quickly and escaped to the lobby. She sat on the hall bench with her coat ready in her lap, his coat placed neatly beside her, and relished the silence as she waited. Her husband appeared a few minutes later wearing a fresh Armani and she got up to give him his coat. He put it on and she handed him her coat to hold up for her. She moved towards the door after her arm slipped into the second sleeve, but he grabbed her wrist and held it firmly. 

"Lillian," he cautioned in the deep, raspy voice that she had once found so intoxicating, "whatever you think 'it' is - it isn't." 

She flashed him an annoyed look and tugged her arm away. Lionel released her and lead the way out the door. 

- 

At the restaurant, he watched her poke at the uneaten food on her plate for the hundredth time that evening. She must have been starving, but either the seafood or his company was not agreeing with her tonight. Lionel had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter.

From the corner of her eye, Lillian watched him put down his fork and fold his hands neatly on the table. "Is something the matter, Lillian?" he asked on cue, just like she knew he would.

"I don't know," she sighed and stole an uneasy glance his way. His eyes narrowed in that calculated manner she recognized as his focusing his complete attention on her. Lillian bowed her head and felt her cheeks burn a pinkish-red. She inwardly berated herself for not being able to prevent herself from turning into a gushing 16-year old every time he turned his intensely critical eyes her way, even after all these years. He stood up and walked around to her. The look on his face was unreadable, dark and foreboding. Lillian closed her eyes as he bent down to her, fully expecting another ambiguous warning. 

"Dance with me," his hoarse whisper was almost a growl in her ears. Her eyes fluttered open and when she looked up at him, her heart skipped a beat. He didn't wait for a response as he took both her hands into his and pulled her to her feet. One arm slipped around her waist and onto the small of her back while the other held her hand up to his chest, keeping her close. "Lionel," she hissed, glancing nervously around the restaurant as eyes began to fix on them. Dancing in the middle of an aisle to a slow piano waltz, a couple - a Luthor couple! - was definitely hard to miss.

"Let them look," he whispered and the assurance in his voice along with the confidence of his lead calmed her. The restaurant around them gradually receded into darkness until all Lillian could see was Lionel and all she could hear was the waltz. She closed her eyes and craned her head back, allowing a pleasant lightheadedness course through her.

"Lillian," he whispered again, and she opened her eyes to see his emotionally charged pair focused on her again. Always her. A sharp intake of breath and she shuddered at the intense devotion radiating from his gaze. She was taken by how, after all these years, he still managed to surprise her so. A frown developed on Lionel's brow and marred his handsome face, and she knew he'd misinterpreted her reaction. Gently, Lillian pushed back the dark curls from his face and resisted the urge to tangle her fingers in the sinfully silky hair. She bit her lower lip and thought, perhaps later tonight. Her hand brushed against the side of his cheek instead and she smiled when Lionel closed his eyes and allowed himself a small sigh. She adorned the marks of concern at the corner of each eye with a kiss. 

"I love you," Lillian confessed, caught in the moment, and pulled away just enough to show him the sincerity in her eyes. "I do."

Something flickered and changed suddenly. The enchanted dance came to an abrupt halt and the restaurant materialized once more around them. A grim expression had fallen over Lionel's features and it was like a punch in the guts to Lillian. "Right then," she chuckled nervously in an attempt to drown out the hushed murmurs that only intensified when he dropped his hands from her and backed away. Humiliated and rejected, she abandoned her brave face and turned swiftly towards the restaurant doors. Her heels connected loudly with the sidewalk outside just as she found it impossible to see through the glassy haze her vision had become. The restaurant doors opened behind her. "Go away," she said, fighting back a sob. 

"I'm not like other men, Lillian," he spoke gravely. 

A sudden urge to slap him caused her to spin angrily at him. "I knew that LONG before I married you, Lionel! What's your point?" 

"Lillian, I can't..." He began to explain, but thought better of it. His jaw tightened and his lips became a grim line on his face. He stuffed his hands customarily into his pockets. "I'll stay at the hotel tonight." 

_He's closed himself off again_, she thought. Her eyes narrowed and she bit her lip to refrain from an angry verbal response. _So be it. _Lillian turned her back on him and climbed into the waiting limousine. 

- 

Her stomach was still churning with hatred when she entered their master bedroom. To think that she was taken by how, after all these years, he still managed to surprise her. Oh please! She kicked her shoes off and for the eleventh time that week, she toyed with the idea of leaving him. A wave of dizziness suddenly overwhelmed her and she grasped the edge of a counter top to keep from falling. She had managed to get both hands on the table when it dawned on her that she truly was physically ill. Somehow, she managed to stumble into the bathroom and collapse before the toilet bowl. The retching began as soon a she leaned over the bowl, and Lillian had the distinct feeling that she was throwing up more than just food. After a minute of it, she pushed her hair back from her sweaty forehead and took a much needed gasp of air. Tears of exhaustion stained her cheeks and she felt sickeningly hollow and barren inside - yet she knew beyond a doubt that the opposite was true. She crawled back into the room for the purse she had thrown on the bed on her way in and pulled out a cell phone. Curled up on the floor against the emperor-sized bed, she dialed his number with trembling fingers. What happened earlier at the restaurant no longer mattered. She needed him.

The phone rang only once before he answered. "Lillian?" 

Though aware that after the evening's events she would be the only one he'd expect to get such a late call from, the instant concern in his voice took her by surprise and touched her so deeply she burst into tears. 

"Lillian, what's happened?" he asked again, and through the phone she heard the click of a door closing. The thought that he was already making his way over provoked more wracking sobs. 

"Lionel," she managed to croak between cries, "Lionel, I'm scared!" 

She heard the ding of an elevator and the accompanying sound of doors opening - or were they closing? "I'll be there soon," he said, and in her mind she saw him reach to turn off his cell phone as the elevator descended. 

"No, Lionel! Don't hang up!" she cried desperately, gripping tightly with both hands to the phone that had become her lifeline. "Don't leave me." 

Static rippled through the connection and for a second, she thought she'd lost him. Then a deep, calming voice that always managed to soothe her crackled through the noise. "Never, Lillian." And though they do not speak for the half hour it takes him to burst into the room and kneel by her side so she could bury herself into his arms, he holds the connection. 

***** 

**Luthor Mansion, Present Day.**

It was silly and cliché, but she had insisted on seeing him home. Lana Lang, the most interesting combination of fragility and strength he had ever known, had insisted on seeing a grown-man home. When their cars pulled up the driveway of the lonely mansion, Lex insisted that she come in and have some tea. It seemed fair enough; a polite gesture for a polite gesture. He let her into his study before heading to the kitchen to prepare the tea. While she waited, Lana wandered upstairs to examine his library. She sat in a plush but musty armchair and picked up the hardcover book resting on the coffee table before her. 

"_The Price of Greatness_ by Arnold Ludwig," she read with a bemused smile as she traced her fingers over the cover's inscription. She opened the book and found a short note written in elegantly long script on the first page. The line read simply, 'You can't fly that close to the sun without getting singed.' Lana frowned at the ominous warning and continued to flip through the book. 

"Dedication to persevere leads to the real price of greatness," Lex recited as he climbed up the stairs with two cups in his hands. "Not madness, but a trail of family fallouts and domestic destruction." He grinned and handed her a cup. 

Lana accepted the steaming hot tea and shook her head. "Do you really believe that?" 

He sat on the coffee table directly in front of her and leaned forward to rest his elbow on his knees. His fingers brushed lightly against the side of her knee and Lana tried not to feel too aware of their close proximity. Lex stared at her for a long moment. "I believe in things I've been denying my whole life," he spoke slowly, cautiously. "I believe in the dark Luthor mystique my father has foreordained for me." He paused to take a sip of his drink. "And I'm afraid that one day, I won't be able to resist it...and he'll win." He put the cup down beside him and Lana had never felt such a powerful silence. His eyes took on a wide, faraway look and he seemed to contract before her eyes onto some inner revelation. "I thought I could stop it. I thought that with Helen--" 

Lana's eyes went wide. Lex stood up immediately and leaned against the balcony overlooking the study, effectively turning his back on her. He had never spoken her name until now. All the thoughts and memories of her that he had locked up in the dark corner of his mind since the crash suddenly flooded out. Lex had been burned more times than he'd like to admit, but Helen...ahh, Helen. He chuckled bitterly. 

Lana studied him from her seat. She had been too stunned to move and now his rigid posture was unnerving her. Lex was not meant to be rigid. The hands that clenched the railing were ghostly white and were just-barely visibly shaking. She got up slowly and walked over to stand beside him. Her hand lifted, hovered indecisively for a moment over his shoulder, and fell back to her side. Lana shifted uneasily on her feet and bowed her head. "You can't fly that close to the sun without getting singed," she quoted in a low voice. 

His muscles twitched, but only for a second as the rigidity melted from his posture and he began to relax. She sighed in relief, knowing she had spoken the right words. Their eyes met and she saw the quiet gratitude in his eyes. She saw the sadness as well. She reached out and put her hand over his on the balcony railing. She wanted him to know she would always be there for him if he needed her. It was something she knew could never be spoken out loud with Lex. He was a man for whom actions always spoke louder than words, and in that moment, they understood each other perfectly. 

Lex wanted to smile, wanted to show her how much her small gesture meant to him, but his mouth had momentarily forgotten how. He sighed in frustration and turned the hand that gripped the balcony under hers over. He wanted to feel the reassuring warmth of her touch in the palm of his hand. Their fingers intertwined and he gave a light squeeze. She squeezed back. Once again they stood silently, content in the safe harbor of each other's company. Lana watched Lex's profile as the faraway look returned to his eyes. "On the night my mother discovered she was pregnant with me, she'd been thinking of leaving my father." She felt him squeeze her hand again, stronger this time. "She'd thought about it before, of course, but on that night she'd actually been prepared to do it. Then I came along and she never considered the thought again." His lips pursed into a bitter line. Lana felt that she should say something and opened her mouth to do so, but neither voice nor words came to her. Lex turned and cast his ever-imploring eyes on her. "Do you believe that there is only one person in the world that's right for you?" 

"Yes," she answered confidently, and though Lana was still determined to be angry with Clark, his face drifted traitorously into her mind. 

"So did my mother," Lex nodded. "And in a way, my father as well." He turned away from the balcony and his hand slipped from hers as he returned to the table and retrieved his drink. "But not me." The two deep gulps he took made Lana realize that it was not tea in his cup. 

"Are you sure you're well enough to be drinking again?" she asked, troubled. 

"No," he said matter-of-factly as he placed the now empty cup back on the table. "And I'd appreciate it if you not mention this to Dr. McMurphy when he arrives tomorrow." 

"But why--" 

"Because it helps make things bearable," said Lex. He pulled on his sleeve to reveal the red skin of his arm. "This." He gestured to the room around them as he looked out the window in the direction of Smallville. "Here." He returned his gaze slowly back to Lana and the way he looked at her made her feel like he was going to burn a hole through her. "Now." 

She blinked and swallowed hard, faintly wondering when her throat had gotten so dry. Despite his heated glare, Lana shivered at the cold implication of his words. It was expected that Lex would be hurting emotionally as much as he was physically, but the tone in his voice hinted at psychological wounds that ran much deeper than anyone ever expected. "And if this," her eyes dared to meet his. "Here," she braved a step towards him. "Now," she reached out and touched his exposed arm. He winced and Lana tried not to let it dishearten her. "If it's so unbearable, why did you come back at all?" 

The expression on Lex's face then was dark, foreboding, and impossible to interpret. "My parents did not stay together because of me," he said as he picked up the book from the table. "Ultimately, my mother stuck by him because despite all his faults, all his secrets, she loved him. She loved him unconditionally, and she died believing my father had been 'the one.' Deep down, I think my father believed, too." Lex turned to the shelf behind him and slipped the book in with the others, but let his fingers linger on the shelf because he could not bring himself to face her with what he had to say next. What his soul desperately needed to say. "I believed Helen was the one." He paused and gulped painfully. Dramatically. "A part of me always will. Which is why I have to believe in the possibility that there's more than one right person in the world. I'll never get a chance at what they had, otherwise."

Lana frowned and took an unsure step forward. Did he not despise his father? Said his mother had thought of leaving him? How could Lex envy such a troubled relationship? "I don't understand," she whispered honestly. 

Lex craned his head back at her, saw her determination to grasp the cryptic meaning of his words struggle against her confusion, and he stepped away from the shelf. He took both her hands and cupped them in his, stroking the fair skin under his calloused thumbs gently. "For your sake, I hope you never do." 

**Part Three: Strengths and Weaknesses**


	3. Synergy III: Strengths and Weaknesses

** SYNERGY  
Part Three: Strengths and Weaknesses**  
by Insomnikat 

E-mail : katzouchka@rogers.com   
Rating: PG   
Spoilers: post-Exodus, pre-Third Season.  
Summary: Alone they are weak, but together they are powerful. Can you crack their story?   
Disclaimer: Until the day I own DC comics and the WB, I am but a poor fanatic drunk on too much time.   
Author's Note: In regards to the first paragraph, I am assuming that before Lionel had the castle transported stone by stone from Scotland, he had stepped foot in it at least once with Lillian.

* * * * * * * * 

Remembrance is a form of meeting.  
- 'Sand & Foam' quotations from Kahlil Gibran

Lionel was walking down the hallway towards the study when he heard something that stirred long-dormant memories deep within him. It was a sound he honestly did not expect to hear in the mansion again in his lifetime: laughter. It echoed unobtrusively in the hallway, hauntingly familiar to Lionel's ears, lilting and female. It made him nostalgic and he half expected an alluring redhead to appear in the hallway.

Instead, the doors to the study opened and a petite raven-haired beauty stepped out. A smile beamed from her wholesomely flushed face. His son joined her in the hallway wearing a rare but equally amused smile. Yet unnoticed, Lionel watched as Lana Lang turned to her supposedly funny host. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything," she said coyly, and Lionel was unimpressed by the expressive reply on his son's face. It was then with his brows heavily furrowed that they turned and noticed him standing there.  


"Please, don't let me interrupt anything," he spoke dryly and gave his hand a small flicker to proceed. The smile disappeared immediately from Lex's face and he shot his father an angry look that Lionel returned with an equally menacing smile. 

Lana took a cautious step away from Lex as he tucked his hands in his pockets - a defensive move Lionel knew well and recognized as an early victory on his behalf. "Lex," Lana started, unease evident in her voice, "maybe I should..."

Lex nodded silently, keeping his heated glare level with his father's. Then on an impulse that was partially vindictive, he broke his gaze, grasped her arm, leaned close and brushed a kiss lightly onto her cheek. His eyes darted briefly to Lionel, daring him to react as he whispered in her ear, "I'll see you later." Lana's face reddened considerably.

Lionel's jaw tightened as he watched Lex's hand release its hold on her arm and slide casually down to her palm, gripping it immediately. Lex reassuringly rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb and as she walked away, allowed her fingers to slip from his own. Lionel stared after the quickly retreating figure as she hurried by him and disappeared around the corner. _Such insolence! _He sneered at his son as he brushed by him into the study. Lex followed with a rather foolish smirk on his face. The inevitable row between father and son would not be delayed a second further. Lionel walked directly to the far wall past the foils and épées and pulled down two sabers. He threw one to Lex who caught it easily by the blunt blade of tempered steel. "Let's have a bout, hmm?" Lionel suggested as he removed his suit jacket and threw it onto a nearby armchair.

Lex raised a brow incredulously. "Now?"

"Surely all that pent up anger of yours needs releasing," said Lionel as he went to stand before his son. "Oh, and this little _farce_ of yours? It ends now."

Lex swung his saber in quick cross swoops, getting a feel for it as he considered the proposition. "Lana is my associate and my friend," he clarified through gritted teeth that kept his anger in tact. "She is NOT some flight of fancy." He removed his jacket and assumed the en garde position with righteous indignation and determination. Lionel raised his saber in acknowledgment, not bothering to suppress a sly grin, and did the same. There would be no mask nor protective outfit to soften the blows of this Luthor duel.

Lionel attacked first and put Lex automatically on the defensive. "Prime, seconde, tierce, quarte," he identified each parry Lex did to block his physical attacks. But did Lex have a defense for a verbal attack? He doubted it. "It was your mother's last wish that I break the cycle," Lionel said, momentarily throwing his son off-guard. He took advantage of Lex's hesitation and forced him further back against the wall. "Quinte, sixte, septime, octave," he sighed the last one and circumvented a rather weak counterattack on Lex's part with a quick cut of the blade that left him wide open for the first touché. Lionel thrust the blunt saber directly at Lex's heart and watched him stumble back with a grunt. "You're not even trying, son!"

Rubbing the spot where his father had left a mark on his silk shirt, Lex grimaced. "How can ending a small coffee venture be her final wish?" He stood en garde again with more focused determination. 

Lionel took a few paces back and crouched in the same position, his saber raised at the ready. "By preventing the past from repeating itself." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth and caused something deep within the younger man to flare up.

"YOU'RE WRONG!" Lex cried and ran at him, feinting an attack at the last minute to knock his father's saber from its parry position from a vulnerable angle. Surprised by the swiftness in which he was unarmed, Lionel held both hands up as the blunt tip of his son's saber found the sensitive spot between the jaw and neck. The other saber clattered noisily at the far end of the room. "One for one," said Lex dryly. He pushed the blunted steel into his father's vulnerable skin and watched with satisfaction as the older man winced and swallowed painfully. 

Lex sighed and threw his saber clattering to the far end of the room with the other. He turned to the bar and poured whiskey in a double-old fashioned as his father fell exhausted into an armchair. "Dad," Lex spoke blandly as he walked over and handed the glass to him. There was no malice, no trace of fury from a few minutes ago in his expression. It was just a simple statement; a part of the mask he had put on.

Lionel stared up at his son and for the first time, saw a fiercely indomitable spirit in eyes that the unemotional mask could not conceal. _What have I awakened in him?_ he thought as he denied the fear creeping into the deepest part of his soul. He accepted the drink and took a generous swallow of the strong alcohol. His hands shook slightly as he put the glass down. "Lex." It was all he could bring himself to say to his son.

Lex nodded silently and exited the room. For a long time, Lionel sat and analyzed the duel, searching for possible reasons and implications for his son's sudden outburst in the end. The conclusions he reached as he finally got up and left the mansion were both disturbing and gratifying.

*****

**The Talon.**

The strong scent of arabica coffee assailed his nostrils as he walked in. Lionel stopped and allowed himself a deep breath of the dark roast brew that once again triggered his nostalgia. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall back to another time, to another coffee shop. He allowed himself to remember her first words to him: _"Impressive presentation." _

Lionel knew he'd been doomed the moment he heard her seductively husky voice and turned to face the table behind him all those years ago.

_"Of course, I would've rushed out just as quickly as your potential investors if you asked me to take such a risk."_

A small grin pulled on Lionel's lips as he remembered his reply to the stunning redhead. _"No one ever gets where they want to be by playing it safe. You have to know when to take the plunge."_

_"Easy, tiger,"_ a crisp and charismatic laugh had erupted from her full red lips._ "Are you always this confident or is it just the colombian talking?"_

_"I guess it depends," _he had flashed her his best Luthor grin then and dove head first into his own advice. _"What would you say if I bought you another coffee?"_

"Mr. Luthor?" a voice called him out of his reverie. Lionel blinked and looked down at a the worried face of Lana Lang. Her elfin features were bunched with a combination of concern and anxiousness. "Can I get you anything?"

He took a sweeping gaze of the Talon and noted how business was doing well for this time of the day. "One colombian, no sugar," Lionel ordered and walked past her to take a seat in a partially secluded corner in the back. It didn't take long for another coffee shop memory to surface in his mind as he waited. This one, however, was not as delightful as the first. Before his disbelieving eyes, her unhappy visage appeared across the table from him. She was older but still incredibly beautiful despite the scowl etched deep into her features.

_"Must be hard being the only brilliant person around,"_ she sneered, her hands folded neatly on top of each other on the table. _"I sometimes wonder where you rank my incompetence among all the others." _Lionel frowned and opened his mouth to object, but her image shook its head and pulled back. _"God forbid the day the great Lionel Luthor became faulty like the rest of us."_

"Is anything wrong, Mr. Luthor?"

The haunting memory disappeared and Lionel turned his head painfully to acknowledge the petite once more. "Ahh, nothing to fret your pretty little head about."

She placed his steaming cup of coffee on the table and he raised a brow curiously at her when she continued to hover over him. It seemed that Lana was struggling with some kind of decision. "Yes?" Lionel prodded.

"I'm sorry," Lana chuckled nervously. "It's silly, really, but today you just seem a bit...well, off."

_Sentimental, _Lionel thought. He shook his head and gave her a reassuringly false smile. "Just a temporary lapse in humanity, my dear." He brought the coffee to his lips and winked at the young store manager. "Don't worry, I'll recover."

Her heightened expression of concern told Lionel she was unconvinced by his ruse. "To be honest, Mr. Luthor, I was afraid Lex was going to kill you with his bare hands. I shouldn't have left the two of you like that." Lana bowed her head apologetically and Lionel had to resist grinning at the irony of her genuine concern. "It must have been tough."

The wide, green depths of her eyes returned to him and spoke of a similar confrontation not too long ago. If he had been anyone but a Luthor, Lionel was sure he would have been touched by her attempt to reach out in understanding. How interesting this creature was! "Hmm," he mused as he raised a hand beneath his chin and rubbed the still-sensitive spot where Lex's saber had been. "My son deserves credit for effort. He did manage to drive his point home."

Lana nodded, satisfied with his response, and began to walk away. "I'm just glad you're still in one piece." She took two steps from the table before turning her head just enough to glance back at him. "The both of you," she clarified.

And somewhere in his resurgent memories, an elegantly lilting laugh rang crisp and cold in Lionel's ears.

*****

**The Kent Barn (aka Clark's Fortress of Solitude).**

Lex knew he'd find him here. Clark was standing by the window stargazing when he heard the sound of his approach and turned his head slightly in acknowledgment. Lex walked over and stood beside him. For a minute, the two men scanned the night sky in silence. Clark dared a glance from the corner of his eye and saw a smirk on Lex's face. "Go ahead," he prompted his visitor, returning his gaze to to the stars. "Say it. You obviously want to."

Lex's smirk evolved to an ear-to-ear smile. "You're only human, Clark. You were bound to mess up sooner or later." 

Clark shook his head but couldn't stop his lips from spreading to match Lex's smile as he turned to face him. "I really screwed up, didn't I?"

Lex looked amused as he made his way over to the couch. "Well, personally, I think you've dug yourself quite an impressive hole." 

Clark followed and plopped onto the spot beside him. He pursed his lips and studied Lex's profile. As much as he appreciated Lex's gesture to lighten the mood, he needed to make sure it wasn't a facade. "Are we okay?" Clark asked, troubled. The wedding seemed like a lifetime ago, but Clark knew Lex hadn't forgotten the fact that his best man had been absent on what was supposed to have been the most important day of his life. Despite his superb eyesight, Clark couldn't quite interpret the look on Lex's face in the dim lighting of the barn. It worried him and when Lex didn't reply right away, Clark felt compelled to give an explanation for his concern. "You and Lana are special," he blurted. Clark frowned and decided his explanation needed further explaining. He opened his mouth again and the words came out spluttering. "What I, um, meant by that is - your friendship and Lana mean a lot to me. I don't ever want to lose the privilege of calling you my best friends."

Lex stared hard at him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "You won't, Clark." He saw the doubt on the younger man's face and added, "we're good." 

"Good," Clark repeated and sighed. "I just wish I could tell Lana the same thing."

"She knows," Lex said, turning to face him once more. "And though she doesn't show it, deep down she is happy that you're back."

A fleeting hope reached Clark's eyes for a moment, but doubt resurfaced and crushed it immediately. "I wouldn't know," he said disheartedly. "When she's not trying to avoid me, she treats me like the spurned boyfriend who refuses to believe it's over."

"Well, it kind of is," Lex pointed out matter-of-factly, stunning the younger man. "You rode off into the sunset and left her in the dust. To be honest, Clark, I'm surprised she isn't more resentful towards you."

Clark blinked. It took him a moment to recover from the figurative slap to the face. He fell back and slumped into the couch to nurse his wounded spirit. At least it had been Lex who dealt the blow. His friend had a natural talent for delivering harsh truths in a way that evoked the guilty conscience rather than offense and anger. Clark was grateful for that. "So how are you, Lex?" he sighed. "Really? I mean, two death-defying escapes in three years."

Lex followed Clark's lead and fell back comfortably into the couch. "Near death experiences have certainly become the defining moments of my life," he said thoughtfully. "They continue to alter my perspective on life...and love." He turned to Clark solemnly.

_Helen. _Clark instantly regretted his attempt to change the topic and stared at the floor in embarrassment."I'm sorry, Lex." 

To his complete surprise, a chuckle broke through the thick air. "For what? Not miraculously appearing in the middle of the ocean to save me?" Lex smiled and elbowed his friend in the ribs. "Don't worry, Clark. I won't hold it against you." 

Clark's confusion disappeared when he saw the authenticity of his friend's smile and for a few seconds, they shared a good laugh. Lex sat up then and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His expression was serious again when he glanced back at the younger man. "Contrary to popular belief, Clark, Luthors are not infallible."

Clark's brow rose innocently. "You mean you've been human all along, too?"

This time it was Lex's turn to be surprised, and the sound of their laughter echoed into the night.

*****

**Part Four: Falling**


	4. Synergy IV: Falling

** SYNERGY  
Part Four: Falling**  
by Insomnikat 

E-mail : katzouchka@rogers.com   
Rating: PG   
Spoilers: post-Exodus, post-Stray, pre-Third Season.  
Summary: Alone they are weak, but together they are powerful. Can you crack their story?   
Disclaimer: Until the day I own DC comics and the WB, I am but a poor fanatic drunk on too much time.   
Author's Note: Lines of poetry from "Life in a Love" by Robert Browning, husband to Elizabeth Browning. A big thank you goes out to Jade for taking the time to give my poor soul a quick but proper poetry lesson.  


* * * * * * * * 

The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason.  
- 'Murder in the Cathedral' by T.S. Eliot

Save me from curious conscience, that still lords   
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;   
Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards,   
And seal the hushèd casket of my soul.   
- 'To Sleep' by John Keats 

**  
Late 1980s.**

It was just before dawn when Lionel entered the suite they called home with an overnight bag in tow. He'd just returned from a meeting on the west coast and if not for the coffee served during the flight back, Lionel was sure he'd have tripped over the school bag lying partially opened at the entrance. "That boy," he muttered before calling out, "Lex!" He took a shortcut through the kitchen to get to the master bedroom but found no one in it. Disconcerted, Lionel dropped his bag at the door and headed towards the living room. There he found Lex standing in front of the glass balcony doors wearing a black terry robe. "Son!" Lionel yelled, "what did I tell you about leaving your bag at the door?" The boy betrayed no recognition of his father, continuing to stand stock still facing the glass doors with his hands stiff at his sides. Lex was frowning and seemed to be staring hard at his reflection. _At his baldness_, Lionel shuddered. Lex finally acknowledged his father's reflection behind his own and turned to him. "Mom told me not to go out because I'll get sick," he informed Lionel as he joined him at the glass doors. Lex humphed offended, "Dad, everyone knows I don't get sick anymore."

Lionel placed an arm on his son's shoulder and squeezed when he saw past his reflection and at the slight figure standing against the railing. She wore only a maroon terry robe. He opened the doors and was walking out to her when the sun peaked over the Metropolis skyline. He froze mid-step when she turned to greet him, the early morning rays casting an ethereal glow on her fair skin, and for a moment she was as splendid and captivating as the day they first met. "Lionel," she breathed and smiled sweetly at him as he removed his coat and hugged it around her.

"What are you doing out here?" he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. It was frighteningly easy to envelope her completely with his own body now and her frailty worried him. 

Unaware of his concern, Lillian hummed with satisfaction and molded herself comfortably into his embrace. "I wanted to see the sun rise," she sighed contentedly. A cool February breeze played lightly with her hair and she could not stop herself from shivering when the chilly air slipped beneath the coat and the robe and onto her bare skin. Lionel felt her shake in his arms and his concern heightened. Why had she gone out on such a chilly morning without a coat?

"Come, let's go inside," he said encouragingly as he pulled away and cupped a hand under her arm to direct her to the doors.

She leaned sleepily on his arm and allowed him to lead her inside and back into their bedroom. Lex had been standing at the balcony doors to close after them and soon followed into the bedroom where Lionel had already slipped Lillian under the covers. He wiped a stray strand of hair from her pale but smiling face. "Don't fall asleep, Lillian," he whispered and motioned for Lex to stand beside her. "No matter what, make sure your mother keeps her eyes open." Lex nodded as Lionel brushed by him and into the kitchen, hastily filling a kettle with water and putting it on the stove. While he waited for it to boil, he made a phone call to security who passively informed him that Lillian had dismissed her nurse for the weekend shortly after Lex arrived home from school the other day. This angered Lionel, who was now convinced that Lillian suspected the first, second, third and fourth doctor's diagnosis of her illness despite his efforts to conceal them from her. The kettle whistled and in a minute he had tea and a hot compress ready. Lionel returned to the room with the two and found Lex sitting at the bedside holding his mother's hand with one of his own and propping a book up with the other. Lionel recognized the worn binding of her favorite book before he recognized the poem being recited:

_"My life is a fault at last, I fear. It seems too much like a fate. Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed - but what if I fail of my purpose here?"_

Lex stopped, looked up at his father and closed the book. Lillian smiled and complemented her son, "you capture Browning beautifully, darling." Lex nodded once and allowed Lionel to take his seat at the bedside after placing the tea and compress on the table. He reached over with the intent to prop Lillian up in a sitting position when his hand slipped to the back of her neck and found it cold and damp with perspiration. She moved feebly away from his touch. "Hot," she mumbled. Lionel produced a handkerchief from his pocket and covered the back of her neck with it as he gently laid her back down on the bed.

"Is something wrong?" a tiny voice asked and Lionel was surprised to see Lex standing at the door frame

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Lex, I want you to go into the kitchen and call the doctor. Tell him to come over."

"But --"

"Lex!" Lionel said sharply, "now!" The boy glared at his father but left the room to do as he was told.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him," a weak voice called his attention back. Lillian stirred uncomfortably. "You push him too much. He's just a boy." Lionel responded by taking her clammy hands into his and kissing her smooth but cold forehead once more. "How was your trip?" she asked.

"Same old threats and diatribes of the southwest," Lionel replied, clasping both his hands over hers as if in prayer. "There's new development being made up north that I need to look into. I was supposed to go directly but I insisted on a detour layover here en route."

Lillian nodded sadly in understanding. "How long?"

Lionel stroked the fair skin of the back of her hand affectionately. "Another hour," he answered regretfully. Lillian looked up at him and blinked in astonishment. Not so much because of what he said, but because of what she saw in his unnaturally wide eyes. For a split second, she saw fear in them. It was then that her worst fears were confirmed. "I'll see you soon," Lionel added, misinterpreting her disbelief and making the irony even more bitter to swallow.

Lillian reached up to him with her free hand and touched his face with trembling fingers. "No, you won't," she whispered sadly, and for the life left in her could not be angry at him for leaving her again in these waning days.

The remaining hour was spent holding hands in silence, interrupted only by Lionel's occasional offer of tea, while Lex watched from the door.

*****

**The Torch, present day.**

Clark walked briskly into the newspaper headquarters. "Hey Chloe, I got your call," he smiled at the petite blonde. "What's up?"

Chloe looked up from her computer and stopped typing. She closed the window she'd been working on and motioned Clark to come over as she opened another file. "I want to show you something."

A copy of an old Daily Planet gossip column popped onto the screen and greeted Clark with the headline, 'Oh Baby, Another Luthor!' Chloe watched as Clark's face contorted into a frown. "Did you know Lex had a brother?"

"Yeah," Clark replied but did not break his gaze from the article. "You met Lucas."

"No, a real brother," Chloe exclaimed, scrolling down so he could read the rest of the article. "Like, 100% legitimate Luthor. It says his name was Julian, Clark, but he died a few months after this was published. Crib death, I think it was. On top of that, Lex's mother never physically recovered from the birth and she died two years later." 

Clark pulled away from the screen and faced Chloe. None of what she revealed was new to him. Lex had confided about Julian to him back when Clark had been mourning the loss of his own 'brother' Ryan, and despite Lex's denial, Clark knew it had been a painful memory to reveal. Lex's trust and confidence in keeping his secret pain made Clark defensive and he wondered why Chloe hadn't questioned his complete lack of surprise at the revelation. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I-I just told you," Chloe frowned, thrown off by his hostility.

He looked frustrated. "That's not what I meant, Chloe. What are you doing researching Lex's history?"

Her mouth fell open and she felt as if she'd just been dealt a blow to the chest. "I was just...I saw a story, okay?" she said defensively. This was not how she had expected Clark to react. It hurt and disappointed her. How foolish to think that things between them had started to get better! "I'm sorry that my journalistic instincts have offended you yet again."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," Clark sighed.

Chloe wanted to laugh. "It's a little too late for that, isn't it?" She pushed herself from the computer and waved her hands in dismissal. "You know, Clark, forget about it. It doesn't matter." She stood up and ushered him towards the door. "You should go. I have an interview in a few minutes and I really can't have any distractions."

Clark stopped at the door frame and turned to look down at Chloe. "Just be careful," he warned her and showed himself the rest of the way out.

-

An hour was more than enough time for Chloe to finish up Lana's updated file and have it ready for Lionel when he arrived precisely on time for their meeting. He flipped quickly through the files and nodded approvingly, holding it neatly at his side when he was done. For the first time since she'd started working for him, he seemed in a rush and not 100% focused on the present.

"Mr. Luthor, is everything all right?" Chloe asked, "You look, I don't know, a bit distracted."

"Do I now?" he asked, his interest piqued. "It seems then that you and Miss Lang have more in common than you think."

Chloe frowned and sat down in front of her computer. "I've been meaning to ask you something, Mr. Luthor. Off the record." Lionel gave her a suspicious look and she added, "personal curiosity."

"Miss Sullivan, if you are about to ask me if I had anything to do with the jet crash that almost killed my son--"

"Oh, no!" Chloe exclaimed and grinned nervously. "I don't think I could stomach the idea of such a link existing. No, sir, I'm not interested in the cause of the crash."

"Yet you continue to walk on treacherous ground," observed Lionel.

"I know," she said and her courage floundered for a moment under his reproaching gaze. "I just need to reassure myself that the man I work for is at least partly human."

Lionel had never heard anything so thoroughly entertaining in a long time. "Make no martyr and seek no fallen hero," he chuckled. "Because you will find neither here."

Chloe chose to ignore his jest and blurted, "WHY?"

"Miss Sullivan, you promised you wouldn't ask that," Lionel pouted mockingly. "You gave me your journalist integrity."

"No, Mr. Luthor," sighed an exasperated Chloe as she fought hard to keep her composure in his powerful presence. She was convinced now that Luthors were born intimidating. "You knew Lex had washed up on the island less than a week after the crash. You didn't just NOT send a rescue party, you actually prevented the possibility of anyone finding him all summer. So I ask again: WHY?"

There. She'd said it. Gutsy reporter Chloe Sullivan. And the silence that settled between them was thick and suffocating. Chloe was afraid that if she held her ground any longer against Lionel's intensely smoldering gaze, he'd burn a hole right through her head. On the other hand, she was terrified that if she looked away, something violently feral would be unleashed. When he spoke at last, his voice was low and sounded distinctly like a growl. "It was...necessary."

"Necessary?" she barely managed to gasp. 

_To his survival. _"Good day, Miss Sullivan," Lionel announced curtly and exited the room in three long strides.

*****

**The Talon Theater.**

The worst part about throwing a moviefest was cleaning up afterwards. No one ever seemed to want to stay for cleanup, so it was strictly a one-woman party. When Lana reached the bottom step of the final aisle with her trusty broom and dustpan, she let her knees give way and collapsed into a sitting position on the floor. She was exhausted. With the seats and aisles clean, all there was left for Lana to do was to put away the projector and screen. Problem was, the projector weighed a ton.

As if hearing her silent despair, the back doors opened and a familiar figure appeared in the entrance. "Hey," Clark greeted.

"Hi," she called up to him, and rather than get up to meet him she lazily waited for him to come down to her.

"Still cleaning up?" he asked as he took a seat beside her on the step.

She shrugged, "more like basking in the fruit of my hard labor right now."

"Looks good," Clark smiled as he glanced appreciatively around the theater. "Guess it's too late to ask if I can do anything." The smile faltered on his lips as he returned his gaze to Lana. She looked away.

"I don't think there's anything left that you haven't done, Clark." And though her muscles screamed in outrage, Lana forced herself to stand and head to the back where the projector was.

Clark followed her. "I know things aren't great between us right now, but at least let me help you finish up. I don't want you hurting yourself just because you refused to take my help."

Lana stopped and sighed. "Okay," she surrendered and took a seat nearby as Clark began to tackle the projector. 

He stole a glance at her as he worked and bit his lower lip as he pulled at the collapsible feet that propped up the projector. "Is there any chance things can get back to the way they were between us?"

She couldn't help but chuckle. "What do you mean, Clark? This is how it's always been between us."

Clark disappeared momentarily in the booth to retrieve the carrying case and placed it on the floor beside the now-compact projector and stand. "I'm not going to give up on us, Lana. Do you know why?" She watched him warily as he picked up the one ton projector with very little effort and packed it into the case. He looked up once more to her. "Because we're meant to be together. I feel it, and deep down, I know you do too."

Lana looked away again and bowed her head. Absent-mindedly, she began stroking the patch of skin on the back of her hand where her index and thumb met. _Do you believe that there is only one person in the world that's right for you?_

"Clark, you just can't do that," she swallowed anxiously. "It's unfair."

He stood up then, the projector case and folded stand in either hand. "What, telling you how I feel? The truth? I thought that was what you wanted."

"I did," she sighed. "But now what I want is time. I'm sorry, Clark." _I believed Helen was the one._

Lana silently implored him to understand and forgive her, and to her relief, he nodded. "I've been waiting since I was five," he grinned sheepishly. "I can wait a little longer." He disappeared once more into the booth and came out a minute later empty-handed. He walked over to where Lana was staring off lost in her thoughts and put his hand gently on her shoulder. She pulled away reflexively.

"What's wrong?" Clark frowned.

"Nothing," she lied miserably, another reflexive move. Lana turned apologetically to him. "I'm worried about Lex. I'm afraid he might do something like -- I don't know. I just have a feeling he's holding back on something terrible."

"I saw him a few nights ago," said Clark. "He seemed okay to me." 

Those were not the words Lana wanted to hear and it fueled her frustration. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just being paranoid about losing a good friend. Again."

The sarcasm in the last part was not lost on Clark, and it saddened him. "Caring a lot about people doesn't make you paranoid, Lana."

She knew she'd been unnecessarily mean to him then. "The legendary Kent charm. It'll definitely get you places." She offered him her token Lana Lang smile, but he noted how it did not reach her eyes like it used to.

"I should go see him," she decided.

"I don't think Lex accepts house calls yet," Clark said with mild surprise. The look Lana shot him prompted him to correct himself immediately, "though I'm sure he'd be glad if you dropped by." He was rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment when an idea came to him. "Why don't we both go see him?" 

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said in a rush that surprised them both. Lana bit her lip as she formed an explanation in her mind, "It would just seem like we're confronting him. You know, two against one." Clark raised his brow at her and she rolled her eyes. "You think I'm being silly again."

"No, you're making perfect sense," he said thoughtfully. "Two's company, three's a crowd." 

Lana knew Clark truly meant what he said, but the disappointment he tried to conceal was real as well. "Are you sure?"

"I'll finish here," Clark nodded and pushed her gently towards the door. "Besides, you two have some things in common. If he opens up to anyone right now, it'll be you."

_I have to believe in the possibility that there's more than one right person in the world._

Lana stood at the entrance for a moment and stared back at Clark. No matter what it came down to or how things turned out, he'd always be there for her, and she was grateful for that. "Thank you." 

*****

**Part Five: She Walks in Beauty**


	5. Synergy V: She Walks In Beauty

** SYNERGY  
Part Five: She Walks In Beauty**  
by Insomnikat 

E-mail : katzouchka@rogers.com   
Rating: PG   
Spoilers: post-Exodus, post-Stray, pre-Third Season.  
Summary: Alone they are weak, but together they are powerful. Can you crack their story?   
Disclaimer: Until the day I own DC comics and the WB, I am but a poor fanatic drunk on too much time.   
Author's Note: The title is taken from a lovely poem of the same name by Lord Byron. I dedicate the Lionel and Lillian scene in this chapter to my current beloved 'ship: Wesley and Lilah of _Angel_. Their tragic story was truly an inspiration...and then some.

* * * * * * * * 

"I'm sorry Lana, but Mr. Luthor specifically requested that he have no visitors this evening," Marguerite told the young woman for the third time in the past five minutes. She smiled once again to the usually likable young woman, but her patience was running thin. She had her orders and right now, the town darling was keeping her from carrying out her other duties in the mansion. 

"But can you at least let him know I'm here?" Lana insisted, also for the third time in the past five minutes, and hugged her coat closed against the chilly night air. "I just think if he knew it was me --"

"I truly am sorry," Marguerite cut her off and stepped away from the doorway. "Good night."

"But--"

And the thick wooden door of the Luthor mansion slammed shut on Lana's face.

-

Marguerite knocked on the door lightly and waited two seconds before entering the study. "What is it?" said Lex, who was sitting in front of the fireplace with a mostly empty double-old fashioned in his hand. He was transfixed by the light and shadows that danced from the flames before him.

"Someone came to see you just now," she informed her employer.

Lex brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. "Clark?"

"No sir," Marguerite replied. "Lana Lang."

Lex blinked. "Thank you," his mouth moved in dismissal. He took a deep breath and reached over to refill his glass as the door closed with a soft click behind him. He raised the now full double-old fashioned up to the fire. "Happy anniversary, Mom," toasted Lex and drank down the entire glass.

***** 

**Lionel's private study, Metropolis.**

Sitting before the fireplace of his own study, a glass of wine and a half-empty bottle on a small table beside his armchair, Lionel began reading the more extensive file on Smallville's young entrepreneur and former poster girl for TIMES magazine. "Hmm." Lionel brought a hand to rest under his chin and extended the index finger to tap his lips thoughtfully. He flipped to the second page.

Two slender hands slipped from behind him and down his chest smoothly, causing him to take a larger than usual intake of breath. "What are you doing?" a voice whispered in his ear. From the corner of his eye Lillian's face appeared beside his own and peered down at the open file in his lap. "Ahh, to know a person is to know his friends." She turned once more to him and Lionel closed his eyes as her lips brushed his ear seductively, "must it come to this between you two?" She pulled away from him then as smoothly as she'd come and something wrenched painfully inside of Lionel. The separation was excruciating. When Lionel opened his eyes again she was kneeling beside him with her face cupped in hands that were propped up on the armrest of his chair. She stared down at a recent snapshot of a smiling Lana leaning over the counter at the Talon. "I agree, she's not his usual type," Lillian commented, "but she is definitely not an eyesore, either."

"I swore I would prevent the past from repeating itself and that's what I intend to do." Lionel stared at his wife and closed Lana's file. "The cycle will end with Lex."

"You think you're stopping it, Lionel, but you're not. You're doing the complete opposite," she shook her head and brought herself to her feet. "Like father, like son." 

Lionel put the file aside and stood up to face her. "I am NOTHING like my father."

"Aren't you?" she grinned coyly, stepping forward and closing the gap between them. "Ambitious, widowed, an estranged son," her hands reached up and tugged at his tie playfully, "absolutely _ruthless_ in business -- feel free to stop me when I'm wrong."

His hands grabbed hers and pulled them away from him. "He never loved my mother," Lionel rasped.

"But he did," Lillian sighed, "it was in his eyes just like it was in yours." She reached up and ran her palm down the side of his face.

He withdrew from her touch and humphed, incredulous. "You saw that?"

Lillian broke out in a big smile. "Me? Darling, I'm a projection of memories you locked away in that devilishly handsome head of yours a long time ago," she bit her lower lip and leaned even closer to him, running a hand through his hair. "So clearly, you saw it. Deep down in that cold and brooding heart of yours, you knew he loved her." 

Something flickered in Lionel's eyes and he turned away from her touch to stand before the fireplace. He did not hear her follow, but she appeared at his side. One of her small hands slipped into his own and squeezed as she tried to catch his eye. "We loved each other, I think." 

He looked up and their eyes locked. "A small compensation for the demands of being a Luthor," he said grimly. Lionel's lips thinned until it was just a straight line on his face. He bowed his head and took her other hand into his. "I should have been better to you," his voice was laden with regret. "There was so much pain....I'm sorry, Lillian."

"Sorry." When he looked up, she was smiling again. "That word shouldn't be in your vocabulary, Lionel. It doesn't suit you."

"If I had known what would happen to you, I would've told you..." Lionel swallowed hard, but before he could open his mouth again a finger pressed against his lips and stopped him.

"Don't," Lillian said simply. "I knew, Lionel. I also knew why you could never say it. You wouldn't be the man I married if you had."

"But I would have been a better man who loved you," he admonished.

Lillian shook her head. "There's no point regretting the past. I don't."

"You can't."

She smiled sadly. "You know, death is a lot like love - you can't help when and who it happens to."

Lionel nodded and let his hands slip from hers as he stepped away and walked back towards the armchair. He pulled a small bottle from his pocket and popped a single tablet from it.

"You shouldn't take that," Lillian said, appearing at his side immediately. Lionel retrieved the glass and placed the prescription pill in his mouth before taking a generous gulp of red wine.

"Please, Lillian," he retorted, licking his top lip and returning the glass on the table. "We Luthors have never been able to trust the words of doctors. A lesson our son, unfortunately, knows all too well now."

"You still shouldn't have taken it," she shook her head disapprovingly.

"Why?"

"Because it was your last one." A long silence fell between them. Her face bore a terribly sad expression. "Be kinder to him. I always said you pushed him too hard."

"Lex will be a great man one day," he said.

"But he already is," she exclaimed. "All you have to do is open your eyes, Lionel. And your heart."

He glanced away and a frustrated sound escaped his lips. "It's too late for that."

A finger touched his chin and turned his face back to her. "We missed each other so much in life. So many opportunities," she searched his eyes desperately for a sign of hope or understanding. "Don't let the same happen with Lex."

"I miss you," he confessed.

She reached up and placed her hand to his face, but Lionel could not feel it. What he did feel were the first numbing effects of the pill. "You're changing the subject," Lillian pointed out and chuckled softly. "Promise me you'll be proud of the man our son already is. Don't wait for who he will be."

"But I am proud."

"Then there are worse things than letting him know," she whispered.

Lionel nodded and twirled the empty medicine bottle still in his hand. There was no reason for him to continue taking it now that Lex was back. "This is good-bye then," he realized.

She nodded. "So it is."

He gazed at her once more and began to burn her image into his mind. "Thank you, Lillian."

Her head tilted curiously at him, "for what?"

A beat. "For bringing back the memories." Lionel pursed his lips and raised his hand to hover just beside her face, too afraid that if he tried to touch her she'd disappear. It struck him then that he'd always been a little afraid of touching her. Had she ever truly been his? "For never giving up on me."

Lillian laughed softly, "I keep telling you I knew what kind of man you were when I married you, but you never believe me."

He stared at her for a long time until she turned quietly on her heal and exited his study, or he succombed completely to the effects of the medication and dreamt she did. What really happened, Lionel would never be certain.

*****

**The Stables, Smallville.**

The beauty of small towns, Lex thought, was that it wasn't hard to find people. There were only so many places to go. He approached one of the stalls on the farthest end from the stable entrance and leaned over the gate. He reached over with one hand and touched the horse's face. "Hey fella," Lex greeted, "you're a handsome one, aren't you?" The horse took several steps towards him and turned its head a little so that he could be patted on the neck. Lex smiled and acknowledged the request. A dark-haired figure emerged from around the corner carrying a saddle and froze in her tracks when she saw the two. Lex looked back at her and gave her the same smile in greeting, "good morning, Lana."

"Lex," she said in return and rolled her eyes when he unhitched the gate for her and stepped back in a gentlemanly fashion to hold it open for her. She brushed by him into the stall and propped the saddle on the side before going over to the horse. "Hey boy," she cooed as she stroked its neck. "Up for a run today?" She took hold of the side of his bridle as he gave an enthusiastic snort. Lana lead the horse out of the stall and faced him to Lex, patting his neck once more in encouragement. "I guess you two have met, " said Lana as she shot an accusing glance in Lex's direction. 

"Actually, we haven't been properly introduced," Lex clarified and took a step forward.

Lana's eye narrowed. "Donatello, this is Lex," she introduced to the horse. "Lex, this is Donatello." Pulling a little on the bridle, Lana pushed herself up on her tip toes and whispered in the horse's ear, "he's the grumpy bald man I was telling you about." Donatello bobbed his head in a nod and snorted once more.

Lex smirked. So Lana was going to be snippy with him today. That suited him just fine; it would make the day that much more interesting. He went to retrieve the saddle and emerged from the stall with it in his arms. "I'm here to apologize for the rather rude dismissal you received at my home the other night," he started confidently. "And ask how I can make it up to you."

"You don't have to make up for anything, Lex, " she smiled knowingly. "I'm sure you had some very important brooding and masterminding to do last night." 

Lex's lips parted slightly in mild surprise. Is that what she thought he was up to? "Then at least let me clarify what I was doing," he said. "I was commemorating an anniversary." He paused for effect and offered her a weak grin. "And maybe a little brooding."

Lana frowned and walked towards the stall entrance with Lex and Donatello in tow. "From the sound of it, I'd say there wasn't any cake."

Lex shrugged and fell in step beside her, still holding the saddle in his arms. "So are you going to tell me why you were at my door last night?"

"I wanted to see how you were," she answered easily.

"That's what Marguerite told me," he said and asked the question again. "So why were you at my door last night?"

Lana stopped and turned to face Lex while Donatello stomped his hooves impatiently. They stared at each other for a second. "Because I was thinking of what you said about there being more than one person in the world meant for you."

"And?" he raised his brow curiously.

She lifted her chin confidently, "I want to rebut."

A grin slowly spread across Lex's face. A repartee with Lana first thing in the morning? It was going to be an interesting day after all. "I'm listening."

Lana released her hold on Donatello's bridle and raised her hand in the universal gesture for 'one moment, please.' She took the saddle from Lex's arms and hefted it onto the horse's back, strapping it into place before giving him a good pat on the rump. Donatello snorted and trotted casually out of the stable and onto the enclosed field. Lex and Lana followed him walking side by side.

"I believe there really is only one perfect person for you," Lana began to explain as they emerged from the stable. "The problem is that there are some people who honestly seem like they're the one, but aren't. It sounds harsh, but I think these 'almost-ones' serve as a prelude, a kind of trial and error to help you better identify the real 'one' when you finally meet the person. To quote Khalil Gibran, 'a heart cannot be unlocked unless it first be broken.' " She saw the odd expression on Lex's face and paused. "What?"

"Nothing," he said as he continued to look at her in amusement. "You put a lot of thought into this, didn't you? Gibran was a nice touch. I'm very impressed, Lana."

"But not convinced," she observed.

"It's an interesting theory," he complimented, "but it begs the question: how would you know the 'one' from the 'almost-one's?"

"That's the tricky part. There's your usual signs of attraction and chemistry," she mused, "and then there's - synergy."

Lex tucked both hands into his jacket pockets and looked out at Donatello as he coasted along the fence at the other end of the enclosure. "That's an interesting word choice," he said and tried to repress a smirk. "But based on your theory, is Clark the 'one' that you will achieve this phenomenal ability to _synergise_?"

Lana raised her hand to her lips and whistled loudly. Donatello neighed and trotted in their direction. She patted his neck and hoisted herself onto the saddle. "You're the brilliant mad one," she teased ambiguously, "why don't you tell me?" Donatello was eager to run again and began to turn away from the stable. Lana pulled on the reign to keep him from wandering and as a result, horse and rider did a 360. "So Lex," she grinned as they faced each other once more. "As you can see, my boy is getting impatient. Are you going to ride his girlfriend in the third stall or not?" 

Lex smiled, and Donatello neighed excitedly.

THE END

*****

**synergy -**the combination of two things to produce an effect greater than the sum of their individual effects. Also **synergism, **a doctrine in Christian theology that the human will and the Holy Spirit work together to bring about spiritual regeneration or salvation.


End file.
